Reflected Depravity
by Shizuka no Taisho
Summary: Cry couldn't stop himself from going back to his bathroom mirror, maskless face staring into the glossy pane. What stared back was himself, but for the red spreading from his pupil. Blood pooled on sapphire glass, a never-ending flow from his punctured veins. "You…" he whispered. His doppelganger smirked, touching a ragged nailed hand to the mirror. "Don't you mean ME?"


_Written for Oukamocha on Tumblr. Apparently they were in the mood for some Mad!Cry/Cry fanfiction, and how could I possibly say no to that? ;) We all know by now that I like Pewdiecry, but THIS. This pairing has potential for blood, gore, violence, dangerous molestation, and abuse. Things I all adore writing. And mirrors. I should point out that I'm using a theme that recurs in my works; mirrors and creepiness. They just go hand in hand. There's nothing scarier than your reflection, after all. _

_**Disclaimer: I don't own Cryaotic/ChaoticMonki. He owns himself. As for Mad!Cry…..well, m'not really sure who owns him either, or who originally came up with him, but he's not mine! Ok? Cool. Enjoy the story. **_

Mirrors aren't what you think. When you peer into a mirror, what's reflected is not the you that the everyday world sees, but rather the darkness that slumbers within. Born from madness, it feels no pain. No terror. And it suffers none of the limitations that plague humanity. Darkness is you, without morality's ambiguity. It has always been there, since the day you were born. A twisted form of you, it waits patiently for its chance to break free, residing quietly in the gloom. Never underestimate it, for darkness is a patient being. If given a chance, it will attack and devour you heart and soul. One slip of your defenses, one moment of weakness at its hands, and it will attack. Your mind will break, become corrupted by the impenetrable gloom. You will be no more. Darkness will thrive.

No one knew this better than Cry. Every day that passed, he saw his reflection leering at him from the mirror above his bathroom sink. It sneered at him when he laughed, snarled when he experienced pleasure. Mocked him endlessly, vile words of death and promised abuse. Cry could ignore all these. But when he was hurt, suffering the depression all forms of humanity experienced at one point or another….that was when darkness was most dangerous. Instead of mockery, or spitted words, his reflection positively purred, whispering vile things through the pane of glass. '_Come on Cry….just give in. I could help you forget the pain. I could make you forget everything….' _

He was relentless. Seductively maniacal. The gamer tried his hardest to shut him out, understanding the depravity for what it was. For a while, it worked. He had his friends, his family. They gave him comfort when he couldn't find it himself, and the strength to believe in the goodness of his own self. Then the depression kicked in again, and instead of relenting, it just got worse. So much worse. Co-ops started to tire him out. Streams were becoming more of a chore, rather than the hilarity he'd once relished. And the more these moments of weakness occurred, the more Cry started to wonder. Could his reflection really make the pain go away? Was he telling the truth? Or was it all some sick, twisted scheme to break free of his cage?

Months of rejecting the darkness came to a bitter end, leaving him stranded in his own despair. The curiosity was eating him alive. Cry couldn't stop himself from going back to his bathroom mirror, maskless face staring into the glossy pane. What stared back was himself, but for the red spreading from his pupil. Blood pooled on sapphire glass, a never-ending flow from his punctured veins, until what he saw was not his gaze, not his reflection, but that of the grinning darkness. Lips parted and displaying rows of jagged teeth, skin pale but for the clots of crimson dried on his cheeks and throat, he was every bad dream Cry had ever had, all rolled into one. Nightmares incarnate, and just as haunting. "You…" he whispered. His doppelganger smirked, touching a ragged nailed hand to the mirror.

"Don't you mean ME?"

Every fiber in his body turned to ice. It was like looking into the seventh circle of hell, except hell was staring back, ready to drag him down into its depths and make him a prisoner. Cry shuddered, bile rising in his throat. "I'm not you!" He gripped the sink. His knuckles bleached white, almost the same color of the porcelain. "I'll never be you!""Mmm…." his reflection's head made a bone shattering crick to the side, and he scratched down the pane of glass, unholy creaks and screeches filling the bathroom. "Don't worry about that," he crooned. "It doesn't work that way." Smiling wide, he pushed harder on the glass. It prickled, then cracked beneath his fingertips, red fluid seeping quickly from the jagged lines. Cry stumbled back, or would've, were he not frozen in place, staring at the blood as it trickled into the sink.

"Stop…."

The darkness grinned at him. More and more of the viscous liquid poured from the mirror. Cry didn't know if it was real, his imagination, or just some twisted vision being projected into his head. Did it matter? Blood was overflowing the basin and soaking his palms, trickling between his fingers to run off the side of the sink, dripping loudly to the floor. He grimaced, a hoarse scream rattling his throat. What the fuck was going on? "What are you doing?!"

"I think you know." Glass rippled, shook, and he could only watch in horror as bloody fingers pierced through the cracks, glittering pieces falling away. "You don't become the darkness, Cry." They reached out for him, a lewd smile mirroring Cry's shriek. "….it becomes YOU."

What-what could he say to that?! What could he do? Cry's eyes widened to the size of saucers, a scream and terrified howl cut off the moment those strong, red splattered digits sank into the flesh of his neck and squeezed, cutting off his air. He tried to make a noise, any noise, but the most he got was a garbled sounding whimper. No one would hear him. No one could. And his damned reflection, the mad Cry…he was feeding off it. Loving it, if his calculated smile said anything. "Don't fight it. You're just making it harder for yourself." His whole arm came free from the mirror, and Cry watched in terror, feeling his toes lift off the floor. Suspended by that damn monster, unable to fight, scream, move. It was like his mind had gone into a fugue state. All he could do was listen, and that was where the true danger lay. Because who holds more sway over your mind than you yourself?

"P-please," Cry whispered. The other-Mad Cry, dragged him forward and bent his body over the sink's rim, leaving nothing between them but a mere inch of space. Maybe that. He could feel the cold pane occasionally brush his cheek, ragged shards pricking and slicing. The rancid breath was far worse though. Like a gust of wind born from a graveyard, both sweet and distasteful in its pungency. Cry gagged when it rushed up his nose, carried by lips that were his own, yet not. They weren't the same. They weren't! He could never say the things this demon had said. Never do the things he had done. WAS doing. ….right?

"You're thinking too much. I can see it all over your face." Gripping him tighter, the other Cry pushed, squirmed, shoulders cracking in a way that made him seem like some disturbing, disjointed doll. Cry had no idea what he was doing. Writhing? Acting like some screwed up puppet? He couldn't tell. Nothing was happening. Then a broad shoulder filled his vision, glass cracking from top to bottom and shuddering in its metal frame. Oh fuck! He was pushing through! Limb by limb, piece by piece, his reflection's entire upper half broke through the mirror glass. Cry screamed, despite the nails that sunk viciously into his throat. What the fuck?! He could do that?! "Neat trick, right? I have you to thank for it, Cry. You helped me get this strong." A harsh laugh echoed in his ear, brought by the man and his fanged mouth. "But don't worry. This isn't all about me. It's about YOU too. I promised to help you, remember? And I will. You have my word."

He couldn't breathe. The brunette just stared at his doppelganger in horror, trying to see some glimpse of sanity in those sanguine irises. There was none. Not the faintest speck of blue broke their ruby depths. That was all the sign he needed. Cry and this-this thing. They weren't the same! "I don't want your help," he hissed, craning his head back. That fucking stench seemed to follow him though, sinking into his pores and permeating every inch of his body. Is this what possession felt like? Or was this just the beginning of the end? Cry didn't know, except for one thing. He was terrified. And that bastard knew it. "I'm…I'm not you! You're a monster!"

Mad Cry grinned. "Is that so? You think we're so different? That you're sooo superior to me?" Those unsettling eyes slit, more from humor than rage, and he loomed over the gamer to murmur against his gaping mouth, a hint of tongue snaking out across to caress and browse inside. "Mirror's don't lie Cry. This is the truth. I AM YOU. And guess what? I'm not going ANYWHERE."

The familiar sensation of ice in his veins magnified, feeling more now like liquid nitrogen. Cry didn't know what to do. Bad enough that all this seemed like something out of a nightmare, but it was a lot worse than that. Nightmares weren't supposed to come out of his fucking bathroom mirror and grab him by the throat! Yet here he was. Dangling in the air by the hand around his neck, staring down into those glistening red eyes and reading their intentions like they were-like they were his own. Oh shit. It hadn't really hit him yet. They were his, in some twisted way. It was his reflection gazing at him, holding him, ripping his nails into his skin. And-what?! Cry hollered, tasting the spice of darkness glaze his tongue, carried on its twin as he, no, his reflection, kissed him.

"What are you doing?!"

"Don't fight it…" bumping noses with him, the other nipped feverishly at his lower lip, using his tongue to smother another scream. "You need my help. I know you do. Every thought that's run through your head…every painful memory. I've seen them all. Experienced them. And I know the truth." Mad Cry leered, licking the roof of his mouth. So foreign, being ravished like that. Yet that is exactly what was happening. If it'd been anyone else, maybe Cry could've taken some pleasure from it. Even if Pewds had done it…..

He groaned, wishing he sounded more disgusted. "Don't….you-you don't know shit!" Cry clawed at the hand restraining him, kicking his feet. Fuck, he couldn't breathe! Every sound he made was breathless, raspy, and getting worse by the second. "Let go!"

His panic fell on deaf ears. If anything, the version of him he could only see as a monster reveled in his fear, feeding off it. "You can't take it anymore, can you? Not the co-ops, not the streams." Mockingly sympathetic, he started to draw his arm back, flexing his fingertips tauntingly. "I understand. I always have. You hide away behind your mask, protecting yourself. All anyone sees is the voice. But it's just so-tiring, isn't it? Keeping up appearances. No one knows who you really are! Not even your friends!" A fierce smile colored his lips, and he kissed the gamer's temple. "Aren't you tired of being a coward, Cry? I can help, you know. I can give you ALL the strength you need to face your fears….."

"Yeah? At what p-price?!" Kicking and fighting with all the gusto he had left, Cry tasted copper as blood poured down his cheek, glass gouging a thick, deep line. Wait. Why was the glass..? Fuck! The mirror! His doppelganger! He was drawing back to the other side…and he was taking Cry with him! Through the very glass itself, its shattered remains cracking off against his arms. Cry paled. Was it even possible?! "No!" A harsh shriek tore from his lungs, and he gasped as it choked him up, not a single drop of air left. That just left more room for the panic to bleed through.

He-he was getting pulled through a fucking mirror! "Nhh-l-let go of me! Please!"

"Let go?" Crimson eyes glistened, and a laugh rattled the Youtuber's bones to their very core. "I finally got you here with me! You think I'm going to let you go now?" Pulling him through the glass with a horrific sneer, the darkness faded in fast around them, cloaking their bodies as Cry was tossed to its intangible floor. The mirror remained shattered at their backs, leaving a faint window into the other world. His world. Not this….nightmarish place of black, where the only thing between him and salvation was that hideous parody of himself, and the red slashes that flickered to life on and off around them, resembling gaping maws with splattered fangs. Rather like HIS smile. Cry groaned, kicking himself backwards. No. Exactly like that fucking smile!

"I don't want to be here," he whispered, voice broken and bruised as the marks on his throat. "I don't BELONG here! You do!"

Smirking, his other self leaned down and plucked a piece of glass out of Cry's hair. "Oh no. Nohohono! You're right where you belong. Where you've always belonged." He purred, brushing the tips of his fingers down a ghostly pale cheek. "You don't have to be a coward anymore, Cry. Here, we're equal. Here, you can give in and embrace yourself! Your true self! Isn't that what you really want?" Both hands were suddenly on the brunette's arms, yanking him up for a perusal of that venomous mouth, lips hot on his ear and its sensitive shell. "Just let go. I'm here for you. I've always been here! And I'll never leave you….."

Never ever.

"No," Cry gagged, jerking his head back. He was followed and plucked at with sharp canines, his other's hands rasping down his back and hips. They were quick, ruthless. He had a mere second to grasp what was happening before one was ripping his waistband open and thrusting inside, nails scratching. Searching. "NO! Get the fuck off me! Nooo!"

"Why?" His smile was alien to the gamer. Sadistic. Cruel. But somehow, he played it off as if he was being merciful, truly wanting to help. Like his screwed up madness was good. "I'm just giving you what you need. Someone who understands you…. " that simpering giggle broke the façade, and Mad Cry grinned. "You know, I'm the only one who can help you get that, right? You're too scared to do it on your own. Too timid. You need me."

He felt them. Digits wrapping around his cock, hot as fire and clamping down mercilessly. He hated how familiar they were. He'd done this. Right hand, left hand; didn't matter. Only difference now was it wasn't _his _thumb massaging his tip, nor his pinky and ring finger tracing engorged veins. They were HIS. His, the insane version-not his….but they were the sa-no, different. Right? Wrong? Fuck, he wasn't making any sense!

"I-ahh! I don't! I don't need you!" Cry's vocal chords were stripped raw already, yet he couldn't stop screaming. Refused to stop. "Get off!"

"You didn't have to ask." He'd gotten behind him. The twin-no, whatever he was, had his arms wound around Cry and kept on jerking him off, enjoying the sight as he yanked his pants and boxers down. He shivered, horror flickering in his eyes. The darkness stirred, maybe tasting his fear, and pressed against him from all over. One set of hands, then two, three, all stroking between his thighs and shoving his knees wider apart, forcing him to lean on the man who held him. They were everywhere. Nowhere. Tangible, joining his doppelganger in fisting his dick, only to fade through his skin a second later. Cry lost track of what was real, and what was the shadows playing tricks on him. Weren't they the same anyway? Both a manifestation from the messed up thing he called his brain. If he was lucky, he was asleep, dreaming the whole thing.

Ha. A fucking nightmare. He wished it were that easy. Nightmares you could wake up from.

"How's that feel?" Drawled completely casual, as if his reflection was asking about the weather. He'd be lying to himself if Cry didn't admit that he heard a sinister edge behind it though. "Neat, isn't it? Having someone know exactly what you want from all this. What you need….." he let his empty hand linger on the brunette's hip for a moment, scratching patterns into the skin with every thump of his heart. Up, down. Up, down. Faster, faster. "Even the things you won't admit to yourself."

"…what?" What did he…mean by that? Cry panicked, writhing in his grasp. There were fingertips sliding along his right ass cheek, precum dripping from the nails. Teasing for now, but the threat was there. "Stop that! What are you talking about?" His cock involuntarily twitched, and he shuddered, sticky wetness getting scooped up by those long fingers and smeared down his leg. "Fuck! T-tell me!"

His doppelganger simply smiled, and for the first time Cry saw it for what it was. Pure terror. His terror, for _himself_, all reflected in that one little expression. Any time he'd looked in the mirror and seen himself cracking, the pressure too much to handle…it was there. In HIM. And it was all gazing back at him now, ready to make a feast out of him. "You look scared," that maw stretched wider, teeth glittering. Like the porcelain of his mask, but there were red lines appearing on the man's face, seemingly part of the skin. Jagged lines, and more kept on rising up seemingly from the flesh itself, blood red, angry. "Don't worry about it Cry. I'm you, remember? You can't fear yourself!"

Oh no? Cry disagreed. And he would worry about it, thank you very-! "What did you just say?" He pushed the hands off him and stumbled away, ignoring his wobbly legs and dangling cock. They weren't important. _He_ was. "You…you just said,"

"Shh." That sick bastard chuckled. "I know what I said. You do too. And we both know what it means, don't we?" Following the gamer as he moved back, back, he reached out to touch the marks on his throat, trapping him against the darkness and its portal home. "I told you Cry. You need to stop being such a coward! How can you get the things that you want if you don't?" His smile was bone chilling. Cry had never seen something so terrible, horror games be damned. Perhaps it was true. The sickest things were so often concocted by your own mind. "Your mask won't protect you forever. I bet they can all see you cracking. All your-friends…." knuckles probed the line of his clavicles, and Cry grit his teeth, shivering. "Don't you want them to know who you are? To see the real you? Russ, Jund, Snake, Red.…Felix?"

"Don't."

He had a hard time realizing he'd said it. Him, not the reflection. "Don't," Cry repeated, his voice soft. Pleading. "Leave them out of this."

"I didn't get them involved. YOU did. You're the one who refuses to share your true feelings." The barbs ate into him like acid, stinging fresh wounds. And Mad Cry had no interest in soothing them. "You wanted my help. You want the strength to face it all." A hand snaked into his hair, ripping it out by the roots. "You could have it all…everything you desire. All you have to do is accept me, Cry. Is that so hard?" Drawing his head back and thumbing a piece of glass deep into his jaw, the doppelganger smirked. "I'm a part of you. We're supposed to be one. Keeping me out like this isn't doing you any favors. And it's definitely not making them like you any better!"

Cry tried to dampen his ears to the words. He tried. But it didn't work. "Shut up! Leave me alone!" A tendril of fear wormed its way through his chest, and he struggled, scratching at the brunette across from him. He was going down on his knees, kissing his hip and what lied below. "I don't want anything to do with you! You're not me! I'm not YOU! Just-" he shouted as a mouth pressed to his inner thigh, hands grasping his dick. "NO! Leave me alone!"

"No." A harsh laugh was muffled between them, but it was enough to get his blood pumping. He knew that laugh. Knew it better than anything. "I hate breaking promises. Don't you? And I promised to help you, Cry. So that's exactly what I'm going to do. Even if I have to, oh…" fingertips wriggled against Cry's ass and joined the hot breath washing over his dick, a thick stream of saliva fast on its trail. "…_persuade_ you."

Persuade? Flushing in horror, Cry watched his hips get jerked forward. That mouth was on him, starting at his tip and drawing a fleshy tongue back towards his groin. Shit, no. Please no! Anything but this! He couldn't take it! It was one thing to hear voices in your head, and have them come to life to drag you through a mirror, but that? Getting sucked off by a crazed copy of himself? Those fingers pushing inside him, thrusting…ugh! No! There was only one person he could tolerate that from, and his insane reflection wasn't it! "Not h-happening sir! Not ever!" Cry lashed out, kicking his copy away and quivering frantically. "Shit…you think I'd let you touch me like that? It's disgusting!"

The madman lifted his head, precum wet on his lips. "My tongue on your cock is disgusting? Low blow. You must really have bad self esteem to put yourself down like that." Amusement contorted his features. "Would you like it better if your bro did the honors? Sweet, perverted Felix?"

Embarrassed roses bloomed in the other's cheeks. "N-no! I don't like him like that!"

"Heh. Liar. Maybe everyone else buys your bullshit, but that silken voice won't work on me." Dusting himself off, Cry's darker self flickered, almost fading from reality. "You want him. You want him more than you've ever wanted anything your entire life. But you're too afraid to say anything, aren't you? Afraid poor Felix will hate you. Abandon you." Out of nowhere his form manifested in front of the brunette, making him jump. "Can't say I'd blame him."

"Shut up! I don't want to hear it!"

Pewds would never abandon him! Never! He knew that….and yet, there was the smallest sliver of doubt that kept his mouth shut. It was that doubt the monster fed on, purring new depravities into his ear. "You're no better than some swooning damsel in distress. Why would he want that? You'd just drag him down…..but me? He'd never throw you away, if you accepted me. He'd love us….you. Forever." Cupping Cry's face, he tilted it up and stared down into sapphire eyes, an innocent contrast to his sanguine. "Isn't that what you want? I could help you, Cry. I could make things so much easier for you. You wouldn't have to suffer with all these feelings ever again…"

His words were hypnotic. Cry felt every fiber of him tingle, wanting to give in. The dark around them seemed to sense the change too, wrapping around his legs and arms and stroking sensually. With the palms that found his thighs and started petting again, contouring over every curve and dip his body had to offer, he could barely made himself think. Much less understand anything. "I," his tongue lolled thickly, slurring. His dick was in the Mad Cry's hand again, and he was gently pumping him, moving all over his flesh and possessing it with the tips of his nails. "I don't…"

"Don't you feel that?" Pushing their bodies together, his copy smiled, nipping his jaw. "We fit so well. This is how we're supposed to be. Together. Nothing between us." He stroked him faster, swirling his forefinger around Cry's tip. "What do you want, Cry? Tell me….tell me, and I'll help you get it. I promise. Anything in the entire world. _Anybody_. It's all within your grasp…."

Cry let his head fall back. Was he right? He could have everything he wanted? All the pain and fear-they'd float away, like they'd never really been there. All his hesitation would be a thing of the past, and he could take his mask off, show everyone the real him. The unafraid him. The him who wasn't a coward, who laughed and felt no despair at the hands of others, and could do whatever the hell he pleased, consequences be damned. "But that," grimacing, he stared blankly at the man across from him. He'd be-him. His vision blurred, and he palmed his temple, a shuddering step backwards almost making him tumble. "That's not what….I.."

"Not what?" Hands reached for him. Their owner wore a sensitive smile, as if he understood exactly what the gamer was going through. "Cry….I know. You're afraid. But you don't have to be! I can make them all love you, just like I promised. Remember? With me, you'll have all the strength you need. You won't be afraid anymore." Through the blur Cry saw his doppelganger kneel down and touch his neck. The look in his eyes was horrible. He wanted control, and if he were to break anymore under the pressure- "Everything you desire. I can get it for you. I can help you! All you have to do"

"Is give in." He mumbled, closing his eyes. Unlike the black surrounding them, this was comfortable. It gave him a moment's peace. What to do? He _could _give in. And the other Cry wasn't lying. He could get him everything his heart desired….but at what cost? His sanity? The true affection of his friends? The gamer scowled. Take away his fear, the sanity, and his mask would easily come off. It was what lied underneath that would be a lie. He wasn't his doppelganger. The reflection was him, not the other way around! He-he wasn't a monster! Cry snapped his eyes open and glared at the surprised male holding him. "NO." He loved his friends, and when he decided to show them his face, it'd be on his terms! His decision! Not some miniscule piece of him that wanted control! "I won't do that to them!" Cry shoved his reflection away. Like hell the first thing he'd let them see was those blood curdling eyes!

The shove caught him off guard. Tripping, the bloodstained man gaped at him, seemingly confused. "Do what? Show them the real you? Cry…friend. You don't have to worry. I swear to you, they won't be hurt. They'll love you, for real!" He started to say something else, his smile flickering. Cry didn't give him a chance. The darkness around them was a throbbing, dangerous mess that wanted to consume him, warp his mind into something sick, and he wasn't going to give it a chance! Not today!

"You think I care about your damn promises?! NO! They're all lies! You-you just want me to accept you so you can come out!" Out of the mirror, and the dark corner of his mind. It was like a floodgate. Miniature cracks could always be patched, repaired, yet once they got too big, everything would crumble. The waters would drown everything in sight. In his case, his sanity. Cry couldn't let that happen! His friends would be in danger! Every secret he held dear, every scrap of morality-gone. Worse of all, he'd be the one tearing everything to shreds. HIM. Not some alternate self, a viper tongued reflection in his bathroom mirror. The blood would be on his hands. "Not a chance!"

Red eyes steamed in the monster's skull, dark with rage. "You can't handle things without me." Climbing to his feet and glaring at the Youtuber, he hissed, licking the wetness from his mouth. "You need me Cry. You think your friends will ever really accept pathetic little you, all on your lonesome?" He snatched him up by the shirt and threw him back, spine colliding with the mirror. "What about Pewds? Hmm? Don't tell me you thought he'd want an emotional crybaby like you? Heheh! In your dreams! Why would he? You're nowhere near good enough for him!" The lines on his face turned into bleeding gouges, and he roared, grasping Cry by the collar. "Face facts! You need me! I'm the only one who can get you what you want!"

Maybe. He could just give himself over to the darkness, let Mad Cry twist his brain. But it wouldn't be him. He'd end up hurting his friends, family…Felix. The gamer clenched his jaw, trembling at the knees. No way! Whatever peace and companionship his doppelganger was offering…it wasn't worth that! "Fuck you!" Fisting the brunette's shirt and ripping it in his desperation, Cry pushed as hard as he could. "Go back to wherever the hell you came from, you monster! I don't want anything you've got to offer!" The mirror punctured his neck and shoulder blades, and he whirled on it, the rush of black hot on his nape. Had to get out! He couldn't let the reflection win!

"Come back." Persuasion dripped from every word, ice trickling down his spine. His fingers lodged on the broken mirror pane, he all but heard the slithering sound as the other approached, insanity pulsing violently across his skin. He wanted him. He wasn't going to let him leave here alone. Not until he sunk his claws in. "Come back Cry…I'm sorry. I've been very rude, haven't I? Let me make it up to you. Let me show you how sorry I am," a brush of fingers across his nape, silky soft. "Please? Give me a chance. You owe it to yourself. You owe _them_. Don't you want everyone to see the real you? Not just your voice?"

Fucking bastard. Tears wet on his jaw, Cry screamed at the top of his lungs. "Not like this! You're not worth it!"

All at once everything snapped. There was a loud snarl in his ear, wind rushing through the trees at top speed. Waves crashing, beating bodies against the sand. He'd broken the illusion. His doppelganger melted away, inches from grasping him, his laughter turning into angry shrieks. Cry panicked and hauled one leg through the mirror. From the corner of his eye he saw those gaping smiles come rushing at him through the dark, red with blood and sinister. "No! Leave me alone! You lost, you bastard! You hear me? I'll never become you!" Shouting, he used whatever strength was left in his fatigued body and hurled himself through the mirror, glass shattering around him. He snapped his eyes shut, protecting his face as he landed on something hard with a loud THUMP, silence hitting him as hard as the roar of his reflection's anger. And then….nothing.

Cry trembled. Was that it? Was he safe? "…hello?" It couldn't be that easy, right? Hesitant, he peeked around, nearly crying in relief. His bathroom. He was back in his house! He was safe! "I..I did it!" Ignorant of the glass shards littering the tile around him, he pushed himself up and wiped frantically at his face, sobbing. He did it! He beat the darkness! Relief hit him like a warm blanket, and the brunette curled into himself, fitfully eyeing the broken spot above the sink. The mirror was gone. Only the metal pane remained, and it was pristine. As if he hadn't just thrown himself through it, and abandoned his mad self on the other side. "Oh fuck," Cry felt the tears coming, and he didn't stop them. They poured down his cheeks, burning the cuts and scrapes that littered his flesh. "…fuck." Sinking back to the floor, he leaned against the wall. There was blood all over his hands, on his face, and he shakily dabbed at it. Real. It wasn't some screwed up hallucination then. It was….real. Which meant- "he was real too." Cry shivered. Could barely bring himself to breathe.

It was all real. Him, the mirror lying in pieces around him….his reflection. Which meant he really existed. Not as some figment of his imagination, or an innocent mirage. He was as real as he was. And he was dangerous. Controlling. He'd almost worn him down in there, manipulating his body like a puppet's. What if he'd succeeded? …well, the gamer knew all too well what would've happened.

"I won't let him win…..not ever." Looking at his body, the half nude state he was in, he cringed. He'd been vulnerable. Almost taken over. He'd been called a coward, had his every weakness preyed on by a monster that existed in his own mind. And Cry knew he was still there. Resting fitfully, angry at his lost opportunity. The mirror may have shattered, but that wasn't the only portal to freedom, was it? The real danger was inside his head. All this had done was show him the threat. That it existed. That his mad self-Mad Cry…..was real. Now that he knew, he had to protect himself. Like it or not, hiding away, pretending that everything was fine when it really wasn't….it wasn't doing him any favors. One thing the bastard hadn't lied about. He was scared. Scared of opening up. Of letting his friends and loved ones see the real him, what lay under the mask. But he couldn't keep being afraid, could he? Not now, when he'd seen the results.

"….I get it," Cry muttered, touching a still wet mark on his neck where that sick fuck had kissed him. Disgusting. He'd never felt so pathetic as when those hands were on him, and that mouth. His mouth, touching him. Ugh. That was weakness. He'd almost given up then. Given into fear, and fueled the darkness. Cry understood that now. He also understood that letting his doppelganger "help" him was too risky. His kind of help meant losing control to a part of himself that longed for nothing but bloodshed and power. A part of himself that the brunette loathed, never wanted to see again.

The Mad Cry was a living, breathing monster. Whatever promises he made, they were all coated in lies.

"He's not worth it." Touching one of the many cuts littering his body, he glanced at the mirror. That's what he'd told him, and he believed it. What he offered was tempting, sure. Cry wouldn't deny that. Having unlimited control over himself, and the power to bare his soul completely, without fear….it was exciting. Think of all the things he could do! He wouldn't have to fear anything, or anybody! And if someone didn't love him, it'd be simple to just…choose. Make them, or wipe them out. Forget them. Enticing. But it wasn't what he really wanted. Love born from fear, forced friendships. Who could want that?

"You didn't understand," he dropped his hand. "You're the real coward between us. Not me."

Cry heard nothing in response. Maybe that was best? A moment's reprieve from all the madness. The real question was….would he be back? Standing up, he crossed the small bathroom and opened the door. No darkness snatched at him. Nothing phased through the mirror, or appeared in its pane. He was alone. "…..I hope you rot in there." Cry took a breath, steeling himself, and stepped out into the hall. He'd half expected to get dragged back inside. But nothing happened. "I guess that's it then." He'd beaten him, for now. That was half the battle. What about the war though? This couldn't be over. No way.

Door shut, he rested against the wood and stared at his naked feet, the thighs soaked in his own fluid, plus that of his-other self. It wasn't intangible, or hallucinated. He was real. A part of him, yeah, but real. That also meant he was still alive. The darkness was a parasite, feeding off him. Every person had one. His was simply more powerful. He had enough strength to gain a life of his own, at least long enough to attempt his seductions and play his mind games. Fuck, he'd kissed that thing! Mad Cry had gone between his legs and fucking- "Shit…" Cry scrubbed his face, disgust knotting in his gut. Never again. He refused to breach that state of depression and instability. "I won't give into you. You hear me in there? I won't do it! So you can just give up now!"

A face flickered through his thoughts. Red eyes, shining teeth, a smile that shook him to his very core. Cry gulped, shaking it away. No. He was tougher than that freak! He'd busted free from his little mirror world, and he wasn't going back! Mad Cry could suffer in the darkness, for all he cared! It's where he belonged! Where he was gonna stay, goddamn him! Teeth grit, he lifted his head and shouted at the bathroom door. "You better get comfortable in there! You're never coming out again! You hear me? I'll never _become _you! Never! So you can...uhh….go screw yourself sir!"

'…_You didn't have to ask…..' _

For a split second, he thought he heard laughter. It rang not from inside the room, but his skull, pounding deep inside. Cry backed away from the door regardless, raking fingers through his hair. He was-still riled up. Yeah. It was probably his imagination playing tricks on him. He was all tense from meeting his doppelganger still, and it had his nerves on edge. That laugh was just a result of all that. He'd beaten him. Mad Cry was gone! Beaten! A powerless, miniscule presence somewhere in the back of his head. He had nothing to fear from him! And he never would again! He was tough enough to fight him, keep him out!

Cry heard the laugh again, soft as feathers. Stopping dead in his tracks, he palmed the sides of his head, shaking and feeling the tears sting his eyes. He….wouldn't come back. He wasn't strong enough! Not now! He was no better than a-a dream. Or a nightmare. Right?

…..right?


End file.
